


Blood and Honey

by schadenfreude (solitariusvirtus)



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: F/M, Justice Lords Universe, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/schadenfreude
Summary: Everybody loves. Even those that seem incapable of it. Some can even go mad because of love. Some do. The Justice Lords know it the best perhaps. They've done it. The spiraling down of the Lords seen through the eyes of Wonder Woman and Batman. Can they stay together or will they fall apart? Set in Justice Lords universe! BMWW, in vignettes.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Blood and Honey

Diana stares at the mirror hanging in her room. The reflection looking back at her is tired, devastated and angry all at once. She is so upset. They had lost Wally. Poor Wally. Sweet, genuine, friendly Wally, who made them laugh with his bad, inappropriate jokes. Their friend, who was now gone; killed by Luthor. Her eyes narrow. Even though Luthor had been annihilated, she doesn't feel any better. One punch later there's a considerable dent in the wall.

Her mirror image glares accusingly. She had crossed the line today. They all had. But Luthor deserved it, she reasons. The glare holds. "He deserved to die!" she yells furiously at the woman in the mirror who is all but reproving her. Metaphorically speaking that hateful man's blood is on her hands – even if there was no blood, just a laser factored lobotomy – she did nothing to stop it. Guilt eats away at her. Blue eyes go back to the mirror.

Hastily she gropes around for something. She's no longer Wonder Woman of yesterday. She's not the dame; different. Her fingers close around hard metal. The scissors clatter loudly as she lifts the object. One hand grips a thick portion of hair soundly and noisily chops it off. Black strands fall to the ground. She's done it, now there's no turning back. Ironically, these words can apply to everything else that has been going on this past couple of days. She looks victoriously at the other her, that woman behind the glass. She's not helpless; she isn't.

The door hisses behind her. Without turning, Diana knows it's Bruce. Not Batman, but Bruce. His cowl is off in the mirror. He looks from her hand holding the scissors to the hair on the floor. The Amazon half-expects him to say something; he doesn't. Bruce takes the scissors from her and pulls her hair back, running his fingers through the silky locks. "Let me do it." His voice is a whisper against her ear and she nods. He is protecting her, in his own way. The heat of his body radiates towards her. She's too weak to protest; she wants to feel safe again.

Moments later she feels it. The weight of her hair is slowly going down. Surreptitiously she glances down. There is a pile of dark hair. Lifeless. That's when the tears start pouring. Diana closes her eyes, trying to hold them back out of habit. Still, they trickle down her cheeks. The scissors land on the floor with a loud bang and two arms wrap around her. She can't stop crying. Surprisingly the face that buries in her neck is also wet. She wants to turn around but he stops her with a small kiss to her throat. They stay like that for an indefinite amount of time.

Later, after they have no tears left to cry, he whirls her around gently. Diana wraps her own arms around Bruce and places her head on his shoulder. Humming softly in the back of her throat is all she can do now. Although there are a lot of things that she should be doing at the moment, nothing comes to mind. Bruce runs his fingers through her now short hair – looking in the mirror is not necessary; it barely touches her shoulders – and kisses her forehead. She tightens her hold in response and raises slowly to kiss his lips.

"We'll get through this."

"We will."

* * *

Another one fell today. Diana brushes her hair from her face with light strokes and thinks about the events that took place. Poison Ivy attacked a laboratory this day in search for a formula. Unfortunately for her the Lords knew about her plan. As soon as she entered the building Green Lantern caught her in a power bubble. She managed to escape; just barely. But Superman was waiting for it to happen and Ivy couldn't get far. The laser rays took care of the rest. Now Wonder Woman is left sitting in a chair wondering if what they did was right. Even if it isn't, it's too late to do anything about it; Ivy's gone. A strange sense of sickness takes over Diana.

A hand she knows so well takes hers, pulling the Amazon out of her reverie. Bruce always pulls her away from such thoughts. "It had to be done." he tells her softly, as if trying to convince himself too of the truth of his words. "It's better like this." Ice blue eyes stare trough her. Diana realizes that he's mentally going trough today's fight. He's drifting away and leaving her behind. Lost in them, Bruce doesn't notice her frightened gaze or the way her hands clench around his. She's so scared of being alone right now. Holding on in the only solution she has.

Bruce is worlds away now. Mechanically he sits down, gripping her hand in a slack hold. Diana says nothing and lets him be. Her head falls on his shoulder and the detective contemplates. It is almost saddening to her; he's so close yet so far away. But he always comes back and that gives her comfort. Bruce is the constant in an ever changing world. The movement of his arm tells her that he's back. Back to her after filing away the useful information. Diana can't begrudge him the wish to keep them all safe. Not after Flash. Not ever.

Her smile is radiant and the shine is back in her eyes. Bruce offers a half-smile of his own. He'll never be comfortable with expressing his feelings but he's trying. "We did what we had to." Diana concludes. The war inside of her is stopped for the moment and she can think clearly. "I'm glad you're alright." she whispers against his shoulder before she feels his lips on her forehead. The silence lingers after her confession. It blankets them in a sense of security that, false as it is, allows them their much needed rest. For now all is fine.

Like all good things, it doesn't last. The door opens with a shrill creak and Superman steps in. He looks at hem, suspicion in his eyes. Lately, he's suspicious of everything and everyone. Wally's death changed him the most. "What are the two of you doing here?" The dangerous edge in his voice prompts Diana to raise her head slowly and steel her gaze. Bruce's eyes are already set in a withering glare that challenges Superman to say anything else. Wally would've known what to say in this situation, no doubt. Everything is falling apart and Diana feels helpless. She can't stop it.

"We were just leaving." Bruce voices and pulls Diana up with him. She nods at Kal to strengthen what was just said.

"Do try to keep your feelings in check." the Kryptonian sneers.

Diana can see Bruce is about to reply scathingly and stops him with a look.

Just because they are falling apart doesn't mean she has to acknowledge it. "We'll see you later, Kal."

* * *

When does it all become too much to bear? Diana can't say she knows; she doesn't pretend to know. But the signs are identifiable, Lois makes sure of it. The reporter is calm and collected, almost glacial in her demeanour. Days ago the same woman was screaming hysterically and punching Kal's chest, throwing curses around like confetti. If Superman is bothered he doesn't show it. Diana secretly thinks he's been taking lessons on impassiveness from Bruce. She glances at Bruce only to find a similar indifferent look on his face. Lois' eyes are blank and Diana finds it hard to swallow the bitterness.

The Amazon's hands itch and the smile on her lips falters for a moment. Kal is telling Lois about Gorilla Grodd and the reporter looks none too happy. For one horrifying second Diana feels guilt welling up; Lois is a firm believer that their method of dealing with the villains is exaggerated. The feeling is stoutly shrugged away with a mental wrench. Grodd had it coming. Too long had he been allowed wreak havoc upon the innocent. Diana exchanges a look with Bruce; it's a silent plea on her part. She wants to be alone with Lois for a little bit. Bruce understands and manipulates the conversation so as to take Superman's attention off of the two females.

Diana pulls Lois out on the balcony. "You are like a sister to me." she says sweetly. The shock on the other woman's face seems genuine. Lavender eyes fill with something like affection and her lips curve ever so slightly. "So believe me when I say that we mean no harm. This won't last forever." Why must she explain herself to Lois, Diana isn't sure but she does it anyway. A sigh is her reply. The harshness is completely gone from Lois' bearing. The Amazon smiles and holds out her hand which Lois clasps a second later. "I'd hate to lose you friendship."

"All of you are so different." Melancholy haunts Diana at those words. She has thought that too. But people are bound to change.

"It's for the best, Lois." is the only thing she can say.

"Perhaps." It's a half-hearted agreement but Diana knows how to count her blessings.

They head back in with twin smiles on their faces. For the time being both have what they need: hope. Lois can believe that things would go back to the way they were; Diana can trust that she hasn't yet lost another friend. The subtle glance Bruce gives her is an inquiry which is answered with a gentle nod. Superman nods at both of them but his eyes are cold. Diana has to hold back a shudder at his gaze sweeps over her. Distantly she wonders if Lois can feel it too. Maybe she can; she shivers next to Diana.

There's a sudden pain after her and Bruce leave Lois' place. Her eyes itch and there are spots all over her vision. Diana leans against her partner for support. The blurriness makes her head ache and the holes in the images frustrate her. It's like someone has shined a strong light very close to her face. Slowly her sight regains its usual state of health. The pain is a dull roar that she settles at the back of her mind. She chooses to think about Shayera instead and her developing relationship with John. The Thanagarian has been glowing lately and Diana is ever excited for her friend.

"Princess," Bruce calls for her attention, "are you spending the night?"

She smirks. "What do you think?" He chuckles at her answer. The pain is almost gone from her eyes.

* * *

Folding the clothes and putting them in the closet, Diana feels at peace. It's a strange feeling she hasn't been able to conjure for some time but it is here and she's enjoying it. Bruce is in the cave, no doubt working on one of his projects, closing himself off. She elects not to bother him; he'll come to her when he's done. In the meantime she's left aboveground with a house to explore. Alfred is waiting for her to be done with the unpacking. Initially the butler had offered to do it but Diana refused; some things are better left to her.

 _"Where has my daughter gone to? Who are you?"_ Hippolyta asks when Diana visits. She has donned a new costume and her hair is short and dishevelled, her skin paler. The queen's words are no attack, although Diana perceives them as such. Her mother still wraps her arms around her and presses a loving kiss to her forehead. The thing that makes her blow up is hearing that her daughter is in a long-term relationship with a man. _"Of all the things, Diana, why this?"_ It is useless to try to make her understand; her mother is set in her ways.

 _"You're only going to get hurt."_ Her mother's words ring in her ears. Hippolyta, her queen and mother, has constantly expressed her disapproval of Diana's relationship with Bruce. Of course it's not like her daughter will ever give the man up just because her mother says so. If anything the queen's regular advice is starting to drive Diana crazy. She just wishes her mother would see to running the island and not her life. _"Men can not be trusted. My little sun and starts, I'm trying to protect you."_ Yet Diana has no desire to be protected. There is no need for her mother to shelter her.

Not once does Diana dare to look in her mother's eyes and let the older woman see inside her. She is still battling her demons; blood still lingers on her hands. Hippolyta presses and in the end Diana has to tell her about Kal's new method of punishment. She makes sure to show her support in front of the queen. Hippolyta seems sceptic but does not embark on a longwinded speech about it. She trusts her daughter to make the right decision; that will perhaps prove to be her biggest mistake. Diana leaves the island torn between her own desires and her mother's disapproval.

So here she is now, newly moved into Bruce's home. It's a house really but in time Diana hopes to make it a home. She may be a warrior but part of her is still woman; and the woman wants things all women want: security, comfort, love, a family. Somehow she has gotten it in her head that Bruce will be the one to give her that. There have been some vague talks about their future and he tends to use _'we'_ which gives her hope. Alfred is supportive now; he wants Bruce to be happy. His ward deserves it; more than others might think.

The sky rumbles and Diana finally looks up. It looks like rain; the clouds have gathered in a dark canopy, covering any shard of blue. A strange feeling lurks in the dimness and Diana shivers. "Don't ruin your mood with such assumptions," she convinces herself, "It's not worth it." Tentatively she smiles and closes the closet. Maybe she should sleep a bit; she feels tired. A storm is coming, approaching fast. Her senses are alert as always and that discomforting feeling persists. Diana blinks the concerns away. It is not the time to sulk. There are things to be enjoyed here.

"Alfred, if you'd be so kind as to give me a tour." she prompts, gingerly stepping out of the room.

* * *

Her fist makes contact with the wall and Diana curses harshly. It's not like her but she long felt herself slipping away. The truth – the very one she refuses to believe, even as it stares in her face – is that she's lost. She lost herself somewhere along the line – probably after Wally was lost to them all. Too much lost, she thinks. The word features in her mind too frequently. "Hades take it," she mutters. Unfocused eyes snap with clarity. She glares at Batman. "What can I do to make you listen?" Absolutely nothing; she knows that. His mind's made up and nothing can change it now.

Serious reflection brings her to the conclusion that she is lost – not because she doesn't want to be found – because she can't seem to let go of the past. She can't let go of Wally and she can't let go of what they were a few short years ago. It's startling to realise she is not that strong.

"We've chosen our path." This time it's Bruce that speaks to her. "You can't back out just because it's not a bed of roses. Have you been labouring under the misconception that it'd be easy?"

Fury explodes on her face and for one terrifying moment, she's ready to crush his skull. Instead she takes three deep breaths. "I'm not an idiot," she replies, deceptively calm. Between walking away and breaking every bone in his body, she chooses the former. Quiet steps guide her to the door.

"Where are you going?" The venom in his voice is chilling to her ears. "We're not done talking," he says hurrying after her. Her wrist is snatched with a firm grip – it's not enough to stop her though.

"I'm done with this." It's an angry retort and she deliberately uses the singular form. How can there be a 'we' when lately all they do is fight? Nothing big – but she can't help thinking it would be better if it were. It's the small things that set them off. Of course underneath it all lies the crux of the matter. Diana wants to go back to what once was and Bruce pulls her forward. And Hades take it all, she's trying but it's not working.

What started with Wally's death, with just one villain obliterated had been growing and growing, and eating away at her. The others found the transition easier. Even Bruce, to her surprise – and horror – can stomach it. But for some reasons Diana can't. It's not that she herself hasn't taken lives before, but she feels like they are loosing themselves. Slowly, but surely.

Spinning her around, Bruce drags her back to the room and the settee. "Princess, I don't know what brought this on, but I'm tired."

"So am I," she submits moments later. The cushion dips under the additional weight as he joins her. "It's exhausting." She would never think to admit this to anyone else.

Bruce slips an arm around her shoulders. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. It's a tender moment when he brushes his lips to her temple. It's soothing, but the fear inside of her subsides for just an instant. Then it's back with a vengeance.

Maybe it's time to face the truth – that horrible truth which won't let her sleep at night; not that she sleeps much anymore. Her courage leaves her at this challenge and she sags against Bruce.

* * *

The flesh yields in her grip and the bone snaps from the strong pressure applied to it. The crunch is there. Wonder Woman stares at her handiwork. Ceetah has stopped struggling in her arms. She's gone now, that's for sure. One more enemy down. Her fingers are still holding the corpse. Diana knows that she should be scared. But this is not the first time Wonder Woman takes a life. Although, the numbness feels unnatural to her. Surely she should be able to feel something – remorse even. However Diana doesn't. Still, one more villain is never to be a bother again. And that's a good thing.

Blank whiteness stares at her. Batman drags himself up; she doesn't offer to help – her hands are full. Gently he pries one hand away from the opponent's crushed neck. There is nothing to be said and the pitter-patter of rain fills the silence. Tears don't fall; it's just water streaming from above. The Dark Knight forces the other hand to loosen its grasp also. The body falls down with an insignificant thud. "Princess." The word lingers between them. It flickers with something akin to hope then diminishes until it fades. Batman's gaze never falters even when his words dare not come.

Only, she not! Wonder Woman is not Diana – they are so very different, after all – and her eyes narrow at the use of the endearment. "Batman," she returns coolly. Somewhere in the back of her mind that old struggle between who she was and who she is ensues once more. Blue eyes soften. "Are you alright?" Ceetah shouldn't have had the courage to approach him with those claws. She can see the blood.

When her mother trained her she used to say it was hard – but quick – to take a life. Even harder, she passed the knowledge to her daughter, was to know when not to take a life. But they've been sparing lives and that changed nothing. Disposing of the enemies was much more permanent. It's these snap decisions, Diana concludes after taking one last look at Ceetah, that come back to haunt her.

"I didn't actually think you'd do it," Superman voices from somewhere behind her. Batman shakes his head, his hand still holding hers – which is strangely restless. "At least Arkham will have vacancies now."

Later when it's only Diana and Bruce in the Wayne Manor, she can finally ponder over the rightness – or lack thereof – of her decision. She took one life to save another. She took a life not because she enjoyed it – although that had been there, buried deep where she didn't have to acknowledge it. Wonder Woman is a warrior as clearly as Diana is a woman. The destroyer and the nurturer are never at peace with one another. It's a loosing battle. But which is the side to loose? Diana doesn't know.

"I miss it sometimes," she confesses while leaning into Bruce on the couch. "Don't you ever feel the need to be like that again?" They were idealists once; believing they could make a difference.

"We've made a bit of progress. Why turn back?" It's sound logic. Bruce is nothing if not tied to reason, so Diana accepts his words. Indeed, why change what has been improved? What would the point be?

Finally relaxing, Diana shifts against Bruce and rewards him with a brilliant smile. Why bother over Ceetah? She has been a mere ghost of the woman she once was. Superman took care of that. It remains unanswered what prompted her violent outburst. After one of Superman's treatment, villains didn't usually retain the capacity to do damage. It's so very strange. Tired of pondering, Diana gives up. She's rather let it go.

* * *

Cool, colourless fingers touch Diana's lips in an order for silence. Of course Diana is too stunned to scream. Icy eyes are trained on the black-clad god in front of her. She has not expected a visit from him, nor did she particularly wish it. But here he was. She could not avoid him even if she wanted to do so.

"You are much changed," Hades says, dark eyes examining her closely. His fingers retreat, leaving full lips free. "I had not thought you'd change this much. I assumed she was exaggerating." By way of explanation it does not require clarifications.

Snapping out of her surprised mood, Diana narrows her eyes at him. "I don't see how this concerns you. Go back wherehence you came." Distaste is clearly written on her face.

For a short moment, Hades looks blankly at his daughter, then his lips stretch in a satisfied grin."You are my child. It is enough for me to concern myself with you."

The funny thing is, Diana thinks, that he doesn't concern himself with any other child of his. She does not doubt that he does have others. "Well, now that you've seen how much I've changed you can leave." Diana avoids mentioning her mother. Lately they haven't been on good terms. Hippolyta doesn't understand her daughter anymore, and bringing her father in this just goes to show how desperate she's grown. "Give her my regards." It's much too late for anything else anyway.

Hades' smile drops at that. "You may be my beloved child, but don't presume to act thus in my presence." His glare pierces her. Hades does care for his daughter, in his own fashion. In fact he cares enough for her to have her look like his Queen; the child he and his wife could never have. "You mother is worried about you."

Diana thinks it unfair that Hippolyta should be worried. After all, it was her mother who exiled her. "Is that so? I had no idea." Her voice mocks not only her mother, but the god also. She wants it so.

Having had enough, Hades lunges for her, forcing Diana's frame to the wall. He grabs her chin and drags her eyes up to his. Just as he is about to physically discipline her, something gets his attention. Hades looks down, astonishment crossing his features. One hand slides down. "There are two heartbeats," he whispers. Black eyes hold blue ones unmoving. He releases Diana. "Did you do this on purpose?"

Bearing a child makes her disallowed from ever visiting her birthplace again. Diana knows that, but still she accepts the life she carries inside herself. "No," is her reply. Because the truth is she hasn't planned it. She and Bruce have never even spoken of having children. For Hera's sake, she hasn't told Bruce anything about her pregnancy yet. In fact she is not sure at all how to tell him. "I didn't plan it. It just happened." Why she feels compelled to tell Hades that, Diana cannot begin to understand. Perhaps she wants some sort of contact with her family now that she can no longer see her mother.

After one last look at her, Hades' form disappears. Diana feels her surroundings morph and she's one again in the master bedroom at Wayne Manor. The sun is just rising and Bruce shifts in the bed, still asleep. Diana runs her fingers through her short hair and slides next to Bruce under the cover.

"Sleep," she says softly as Bruce shifts yet again and looks like he would wake up at any moment.

* * *

The sheer force behind Superman's hit sends Wonder Woman flying into the wall. She hits the concrete, a large crater forming as her body slams down. A cry tears through the premises. Diana can't tell if it's hers or not. She's in too much pain to even think. Her lips don't feel like they are moving but she can't be sure. In fact, agony is all she knows right now. She burns, and burns, and burns so bad that she wishes death would claim her. Unfortunately, she's made of sterner stuff. Everything goes black and something warm trickles about her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" is the first thing she hears upon waking up. Diana's startled blue eyes beg Bruce to understand. "How could you not tell me?" he yells, face twisting in rage and disbelief. The thin thread of trust is about ready to snap.

Automatically, Diana's hand flies to her abdomen. "I was going to," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Today, after the mission, I was going to." An unspoken question makes the temperature drop. Diana hold her breath, waiting for Bruce to quell his fury. She gulps as his face looses all emotion. Slender fingers press harder.

Bruce shakes his head and for a brief moment he looks like he might talk. But he doesn't; his eyes travel to her abdomen and his gaze holds its position. It takes five of Diana's heartbeats – the longest time, an eternity – for him to shift his stare to the wall. Rather unexpectedly, his fists start pounding the innocent structure. Punch after punch, he lets out wrath and anguish, disappointment and horror. "If you'd just told me," his voice cracks, like a whip, slashing over her. This violence scares even Diana, who can only look bewildered at her torso while her lover destroys whatever he can get his hands on. A breakdown is nothing less than what this is.

With a jolt, a hard yank from Bruce, Diana almost falls off the bed. And it finally sinks in at this point. Tears well up into her eyes. "Why?" That's the last coherent thing that leaves her mouth for the next few hours. She's too caught up in her own grief to help Bruce through his; this is the second time they both lose family. It is with regret that Diana thinks of not telling Bruce earlier. She had so many opportunities.

Superman is the least sympathetic. He's known about Diana's pregnancy and to his mind it is better that things should be as they are. "An infant has no place in out line of work," he states, a few weeks after. The wound is still raw and Diana almost throws the blame on him. It is, after all, the Man of Steel who caused this directly. Then she reminds herself that Kal is a friend and she's grieving and throwing the blame on him doesn't help. For his part, Superman neglects to tell her that his aim had been indeed right and there was no mistake. It is better for Diana and Bruce to never know it.

"We could try again," Bruce tells her, eyes sunken and red-rimmed from lack of sleep and acute misery. He doesn't want it; he fears it, but he is willing to try again despite it all. "There are ways, Diana," he says, because he does want a child, eventually. He wants one with her.

"No!" Her refusal is vehement. She can't and won't try it again. It's some sort of punishment, she's sure. But for what? Why are the Gods punishing her? "I don't want to talk about this now." She closes her eyes and flinches when the door shuts with an angry, loud bang.

* * *

Bruce has been gone for almost a week. Diana thinks she should be worried, but she isn't. She just can't find the energy to squander on such emotions. Having wounds of her own to heal, Diana turns her eyes away from the door. The stick in her hand mocks her. One red line holds her attention. Diana exhales and tears come out involuntarily. She doesn't want to cry anymore. It makes her head ache.

"How stupid," she murmurs, because it is so very, very daft of her to do this. A pregnancy test can tell her nothing; Diana knows she's not pregnant. And still, she takes the damned test every month. Every single month since her baby died, the woman takes one of these tests and sighs dejectedly when they turn out negative. Bruce doesn't know it. But how could he? He doesn't even share a room with her anymore. Diana doesn't know where he's sleeping; only that it's nowhere near her.

The door creaks and Diana jumps. She turns her head and finds Bruce standing in the doorway. Something in his face makes it seem like at the moment he's fragile, breakable. "Hey," Diana says. It's the only civil thing she can think of. There are, of course, other things she wants to tell him, but they are less pleasant and would destroy the little they have left. "Come on in."

Obediently, Bruce enters the room, the door shutting behind him. He strolls to the bed and sits down next to her. Blue eyes drop to the test in her hand. "Is it negative again?" As he looks up, he sees the surprise on her face. "I'm sorry." He is sorry because he's not there when she needs him, and sorry because he knows she's in pain each and every month when her hopes are dashed. Mostly, he regrets that no matter how many times they try, it never seems to get better. Anger is always there, just beneath the surface. Bruce takes the object from her hand and dumps it in the bin.

It takes forever for Diana to react, but her lips press in a bloodless line. "I can't stop," she manages to get out. "It scares me. Do you know why?" No reply comes. "Because it won't be the same. I won't feel that joy anymore." Diana closes her eyes and leans into Bruce. For the moment it doesn't matter where he's been. "Another child will not solve this, Bruce. It won't make it better."

Aware that she is waiting for him to say something, Bruce grazes his fingers to her shoulder. "Having a child might make it bearable." He knows not whether it is so, but they have to try.

"Or it might make it worse," Diana counters. "But Bruce, I really, really want one. With you." Deep inside, Diana is like most women. Diana is like Shayera. She wants something solid, tangible with the man she loves. Is that such a crime? Does she have to be punished for it? It's unfair to her way of thinking.

Instead of words, Bruce brushes his lips to her forehead. He then moves to her mouth. It is a slow progress they're making. Reminiscent of their better days, earlier trysts, they work to achieve something lost. It is almost like they've forgotten what being together is like and the memories need unlocking. Diana doesn't have time to bemoan the fact; her mind set of reconstruction. She traces every scar, the story behind it clear in her head.

"I've missed you," Bruce whispers against her collarbone. His warm hands hold her still, fingers pressing into her skin. Diana thinks it nowhere near as much as she's missed him. But she smiles down at him.

* * *

"It is quite enough," Superman says, earning himself a glare from Bruce Wayne and a frown from Diana Prince. Lois hangs back, blank eyes intent on ignoring her surroundings now. "I believe we shall be leaving. Come, Lois." The two depart with not one more word spoken. It's for the best that they do so.

"That was not necessary, Bruce," Diana points out. She puts a hand on his shoulder and presses down lightly. "He meant nothing by it. You know that." The truth is something else entirely. Diana knows it.

"I know what I heard," Bruce growls, shrugging her hand off. And the truly frightening thing is Diana heard it too. The sting clings to both man and woman. Like with any sudden impact they couldn't even prepare themselves for it. The hit just came out of nowhere, slamming into them. Bruce shakes the pain away, icy eyes focusing on Diana. Superman's words had been aimed at her first and foremost.

"I'm fine." It's her newest catchphrase. She's not fine. Bruce can say that with certainty. In fact this unexpected impact makes it impossible to assess the damage. Old wounds are torn open and they start bleeding again with a vengeance. "Really, Bruce. Trust me." But that's not the worst. It's everything after that hurts. They're trapped in a world of pain with no way out. Oh, the irony. They perfect world is crumbling around them. Paradise is lost to them who want it the most.

His whole body locks up at those words. How can he possibly trust her when he doesn't even trust himself? It's like he's eight again, scared and alone, both parents dead on the ground. He doesn't trust anybody, not anymore. "Let's go." Bruce holds onto his distrust tightly; it's what keeps him alive.

The refusal on Bruce's part makes Diana reel back. It's not like him to turn her comfort away. But then again, it's not like her to offer it. Diana hasn't exactly been capable of dealing with anyone's pain but her own. And she's found a new outlet for it. Since she can't seem to give and nurture life, she's decided the best thing to do is take it. Killing is easier. It's painless and numbing. It's all she has left. Following Bruce silently, Diana contemplates her predicament. She has her own sort of limbo she's inured to and nothing can make her budge.

Ordinarily, Diana would brush his behaviour away but today, of all days, she can't. Today her own brand of weakness demands satisfaction, her demons pounding on the door of her soul. The condrum separates them because Diana's definition of a life without Bruce is conjectural. His, on the other hand, is a reality. Letting go is what he is best at and Diana doesn't allow herself to forget it. Not at this point. Not when she needs to remember it, as he will let go at some point and she has to be ready for it at any time. There is a slow decline and the end is looming over the horizon.

Instead of words, Diana reads the signs. They've been falling apart for some time now. She could probably say that it's Wally's death but that happened some time back. It's not that Wally dying is no longer relevant. The loss is still there, however tragedies keep coming one after another and something's got to give way. Diana thinks that it'll be her sanity. But she can't be sure. Distrust is as much a part of her as it is of Bruce. Perhaps her sanity is gone. It might as well be with the way she's been acting lately.

"Bruce, we're fine," she tries to tell him, only to have her lover look the other way. They are fine.

* * *

The earth crumbles underneath her feet and she's swallowed by the void. Her internal screech could rival that of a banshee if she'd unleash it. Diana doesn't. She puts a grim face on and grits her teeth against the pain. She won't be humiliated. She refuses to be humiliated. It's a wondrous thing, really, how it can all fall apart in a matter of seconds. Diana's knees go weak and her weight is suddenly too much. "I don't care either way, Bruce," she lies through her teeth. "We should have done this a long time ago anyway." At the very least she's a better liar today than she was the day before. A joy, that.

Diana hates that word, ' _we'_. There is no 'we' and there hasn't been a 'we' for some time now. There is Wonder Woman and there is Batman. There is the Justice Lords. There is Bruce Wayne and there is Diana Prince. But there is no 'we'. The vile taste in her mouth makes her want to spit, but she's too much of a lady for such coarse actions. Instead, her fists unconsciously prepare for battle.

It is rather unfortunate - but somewhat fair in an ironical manner – that their problems can't be solved with violence. Diana could simply rush Bruce's head to the wall, or she could snap his neck. If particularly infuriated, she supposes she could throw him in a world of pain. But nothing really can compare to what she's feeling now. No amount of physical pain could possibly make up for the hell he's inflicting upon her. Diana won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that though. It is best to seem unmoved.

Bruce nods his head in deference to her reaction. "We are mature people. I am glad we can understand one another."

Angrily, Diana thinks that if the word 'we' is uttered one more time she will snap. "Yes, well, I'd best be going," she excuses herself and starts to get up. "There are still some things I need to get done."

What she wants is to lose herself in a fight. But she can't. Their villains have been captured and are no longer a threat. And as wants and needs often differ, she needs to see how the situation got to this point. Perhaps it is that they don't communicate anymore. Maybe it has to do with the fact that Diana barely knows Bruce anymore, and he her. They are two perfect strangers, so changed by circumstances that the relationship they have cannot exist in their current state. Because it is circumstances that are to be blamed in this. What else could possible serve as an acceptable explanation for their decline?

A well-known, ominous presence materializes behind her, and Diana springs to a defence position, her body turning in the blink on an eyes. "You again? Have you not tormented me with your presence enough?" She can only take so much.

"My dear daughter, when will you ever learn?" Hades chuckles at her grimace. "I see you are more affected then you let on." He doesn't show her pity. He knows she deserves this punishment.

Denying it does nothing to help her cause. Diana glared at her parent. "I will repeat this once more, for you seem not to understand me. What I do is none of your concern. Feel free to forget you even have me for a daughter." In fact, she would be happy for him to do so. She's had enough of conceited males for one day. More to the point, she can barely stand to look upon a man at the moment. All she sees is an outlet for her rage. Her eyes burn.

"If you truly wish to put an end to your pain, become stone," Hades advises.

* * *

Forgive and forget, they say. Diana scoffs at the advice. It's utterly useless. As if she could simply close her eyes and will her troubles away. It a nice thought. But very unfeasible. Instead, she holds onto her pain and rage. That she's good at. So it comes as unexpected when Bruce calls her down to the Batcave, the Wayne Manor. Damn the man! He knows her best; better than anyone save herself. Dark blue eyes narrow in a heated glare as she's transported to her destination. "What is so important, Batman, that it couldn't be shared through our communicators?" She really, really wants to do him harm right now.

The sight that greets her steals her breath away. On the large screen of Batman's computer a fight is taking place between a man that looks suspiciously like Luthor and other that look like them but aren't. And then comes the biggest shock. A flash of red zaps across the screen. "Wally," she whispers, not believing her eyes. "Is that Wally?" The Diana she's buried long ago stirs from her dark corner.

Guilt, hidden so well behind the artificial smiles she sometimes pastes on her face, eats away at her. It's like that day with the scissors and Bruce's warm, strong arms around her. However the illusion doesn't last. In a mere moment she's brought back to reality. Those heroes, if one can call them that, need help. Apparently they are all in agreement on that point. Superman calls them to their duty.

As the Martian steps trough the portal, Diana and Bruce get a moment of solitude. She can't keep her worries to herself. "If they refuse our help? If they try to fight us?" Danger lurks around the corner. These will be worthy opponents if they so choose to go up against the Lords. "Have you a plan?"

"Always," Batman replies, a smirk taunting her. "You did not think I would leave thus up to fate." He is ice cold, veneer in place. Once upon a time, he would have shared his thought with her. They'd been close; not anymore. Out of habit, he makes to place his hand on her shoulder. When noticing the gesture, he pulls away. "You'd best go." And with that their discussion is over and done. Diana goes.

Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in Batman's attention, she looks at the screen depicting their captives. Inwardly she breathes out in relief. They are all alive. Why she should take comfort in the thought, Diana doesn't rightly know. Nevertheless that is what she is feeling and what she hides away.

"What are you thinking?" her winged teammate asked. Mace held high, she teems with delight. Shayera does love a good fight. Wonder Woman herself likes a challenge. It is beneficial for her; a stress reliever.

"Nothing much," Diana automatically responds. "I am just wondering if they will face us when they recover." Her body locks at the thought, and not entirely out of dismay. She lives for the fight.

"I hope they do," voices the other female. "It would make for an interesting fight. Don't you agree?"

Offering an answer would be unnecessary as Shayera moves on. Diana smirks, a slight twist of the lips. She curls her hands into fists and runs after the Thanagarian. This new world is theirs for the taking. Diana finally allows her wounds a reprieve, invisible lacerations that she no longer pulls the thread of. They won't heal completely but then again she doesn't expect them to. The Amazon likes her fury. It gives her strength she didn't know she was capable of wielding. Indeed, in this her most trusted ally is wrath. Diana forces her mind away from Bruce and anything that might distract her. A warrior can make no mistakes. An error can prove fatal and it's the undoing of most enemies. Diana will not fail.

* * *

"That was unexpected," Diana murmurs, blocking an attack from the League's Wonder Woman. Her adversary pounces again, this time landing a punch. "How did you get out? Diana hears herself asking. It was probably their Batman who came up with a brilliant plan, she decides. Batman always finds a way.

"Flash," the League's Diana answers. "But that's not the point." She dodges a kick from the woman who could be her twin. "Why are you doing this?" They can't possibly be evil. Misguided, yes. Not wicked.

"Because we can help you," is the angry reply. "Why is it that you throw our good intentions in out faces?" Such conviction is not easily beaten and the Wonder Woman of Justice League frown. Lord Diana lets her guard drop. "At the very least take my advice. Don't go for the Bat. It'll only bring pain."

For the first time the League's fighter can see the fragility of her opponent. Lord Diana is glass masquerading as steel. She's easy to bring down. Her emotions make her vulnerable. All that rage and bitterness; they will lead to her fall down. "I am capable of making my own decisions," Wonder Woman states simply, her fist flying out. "But you are clearly not." The hit sends the Lord Diana to the ground.

Evenly matched as they are, Lord Diana gets up fairly quick. She is about to launch her own assault when something hits her in the back; though it's too late because her the League's Diana had already been hit. The shape of the weapon, the material, everything if familiar. Somewhrer before she's touched something like it. It takes her brain an instant to process. It's a batarang. The cool, smooth surface, the sharp edges; Diana knows them well. A new wave of fury washes over her. She whirls around and faces a Batman different from her own. She smirks. It's her turn now and she's ready to get her revenge.

Gathering every small bit of hatred she feels towards Batman, Diana shows no mercy. Her rival is promptly slammed against the concrete. Picking a large piece of rubble, she advances towards him. The intention is clear. She'll crush his skull if she reaches him. Diana cannot kill her Batman but this one won't ruin the League's Diana. Lord Wonder Woman won't stand for it. "I do this for her own good."

"I don't think so, sister!" screams a voice behind Lord Diana and a sharp pain flood her. Something metallic collides with her head and that's how Batman escapes with his life.

To the Lords' horror the Justice League teams up with Luthor. As the beam hits Diana, her powers fading, she can barely feel anything but relief. Finally, she's free of all these trappings. The bracelets on her hands are pulled away from her with a swift thug. She can't do much either way.

Strong, warm arms lift her up. Lord Diana is unable to open her eyes but she the scent is not foreign to her. Bruce, her Bruce is holding her. "She'll take a long time to heal," Lord Diana hears the other Diana say. She doesn't need her sight to tell that Bruce is nodding in agreement. "What will you do?"

A pause tells the unmoving Diana that her lover is considering his options. "I'm taking her home," he finally responds. Home. Diana likes the sound of that. "Thank you, for everything." That's all he can say.

Yes, they deserve thanks, Lord Diana considers. Slowly, her eyelids part. Blue eyes meet another pair of icy orbs. She doesn't know what to say to him. "I've missed you so bad." The words fall out, without her consent. But she can't take them back. Nor would she try to do it. The half-smile on his face is her reply.

* * *

The silence lingers between them a moment longer. Bruce touches his thumb to her cheek. "We were wrong," he says, mournful eyes on her face. The Justice Lords have disbanded in the wake of her defeat. John and Shayera have left; they needed time away. J'onn too has disappeared, claiming that he would contact them at one time or another. Superman is the only one of them who doesn't accept the defeat for what it is. Thus he can't be let out. The Man of Steel is incarcerated and Diana doesn't visit him. She can't bring herself to. Bruce goes to see him sometimes. Suffice to say that Superman is not at all pleased with Batman. The threats are a constant stream coming his way from their former teammate.

Diana lifts her hand weakly, catching his with hers. Her grip is not tight. "Our mistakes," she breathes out, "we have to learn from them. That's the only thing we can do. Live and learn." Her head settles back on the pillow. She eyes the moonbeams that cut through the darkness. "It is strange." Her powers have not returned and they don't really know if they ever will.

Bruce shift. His lips graze her forehead. "We'll get through this together," he promises. The former superheroes have decided to put their costumes away. Not forever. Just for some time. Meanwhile others have taken their place. The regime falling brought out both villains and vigilantes. The world is as it's always been. The chaos never stops, it never slows. It goes on and on.

Agreeing, Diana rubs her flat stomach. The world falls apart and comes back together. It is all very odd. Diana doesn't try to understand it. "Do you think it will be a boy?" She's pregnant again by some sort miracle. This time, Diana is mindful of every little thing. "I want a boy with your eyes."

"I was actually hoping it will be a girl," Bruce whispers in her ear. His hand glides over hers. "A pretty, little girl with your smile." He breathes deeply, filling his lungs with air. "Would you like that?"

A sweet, rolling laughter emerges from Diana's parted lips. She'll love her child no matter the gender. Bruce brushes his fingers through her hair. It's still sort. Diana thinks she'll let it grow back out. She rather likes her hair long. It is time for a change anyway. "I'm just hoping for a healthy baby. Nothing more." Whatever the gods decide to give her, Diana will shoulder it and Bruce will be by her side.

For a wound to really heal, first it must sting. The hurt is part of the healing process. They have to accept the pain, process it, work their way through it. Diana repeats that into her mind. She doesn't allow herself to forget, because recovery is not an easy thing. And some scars linger long after the healing is done. She has many of those. They are mark of all the lessons she's learned.

Phantom pain bothers her at times. Diana lives with that. She lives with her mistakes and tries to make it all better. "I never though we would reach this point.' Bruce murmurs in agreement. "Unexpected as this is, I don't regret it." Loosing her powers in a blessing in disguise. It helps her see so many things she overlooked before. Her life won't ever be the same. And that's a good thing. The best thing, really.

"Neither do I," Bruce reflects out loud. The truth often hurts, it's not a pretty thing. But that is their reality. They've been running from it for enough time now. Facing what they've done and taking responsibility is the hardest thing. But Diana and Bruce have one another. And that's enough.

"The truth will set you free," Diana articulates to no one in particular.

* * *

Bruce bounces his knee gently. He smiles as a pair of dark blue eyes lingers on his face. Two small hands reach up and settle on his cheeks. "What are you doing, darling?" he asks and a giggle is his reply. "Martha, sweetie." Her fingers trace his stubble covered chin. She laughs when it tickles her.

Martha Wayne is four years old and as curious as can be. She looks a lot like her mother whom Bruce spies gently rocking the newest addition to their family. Bruce feels his grin widen. Diana picks that moment to glance at him and Etha squirms in her arms. Little Thomas, Martha's twin is busy pulling on Diana's skirt. His wife focuses her stare on him, a question lingering in her eyes. Bruce turns to the guests.

"I never really thought I'd see you like this," Shayera teased, her own son perched in her lap. Rex Stewart eyes Martha with part suspicion and part interest. At five years he doesn't quite know what to make of females that are not his mother. "I didn't think I would end up like this." No one did.

"Go figure," Diana throws in, approaching them with small steps so Thomas can keep up with her. Etha yawns eliciting a coo from her mother. "But it suits us." More than she thought it would, actually.

"Can't argue with that," the winged redhead says in agreement. At a particularly sharp tug of said red hair, she frowns at Rex. "Ouch. Don't do that, it hurt. Do you want to hurt momma?" Still, she smiles.

Diana laughs at the scene. Thomas and Martha are like that too. Apparently having long hair is a sort of invitation for children to pull on it. Diana gazes at Etha lovingly. "In a few months she'll be pulling my hair too." Diana sighs, but not with contempt. Even the hair pulling is somewhat endearing at this point.

Thomas puts both hands on his father's knee. Imperiously, he commands to be lifted up too. Martha claps her hands enthusiastically. Bruce, who can't really refuse his children anything, complies at once. "There, my boy." Thomas gives his sister a smug look as if to show that they are exactly the same.

The truth is Bruce has an affinity for his daughter. He loves all three of his children, and would do anything to protect them; yet Martha is closest to him. Diana notes such things with tender easiness. She herself dotes on Thomas. Etha, the youngest, is everyone's sweetheart. The baby of the family needs the most help and as such she is the one Bruce and Diana watch with a healthy dose of attention. Frail, innocent Etha watches her mother through cerulean orbs that are oddly unfocused. She may be on the verge of falling asleep. If there is anything Etha likes better than sleeping, that's eating. Now she's full.

Encompassing all the members of his family with one stare, Bruce hums contently in the back of his throat. Not even his best dreams can compare with reality. This, his wife and children, his family is his reason for living. It is because of them and for them that he finds the power to get up and face the world every day. There isn't a day that goes by in which he doesn't thank whoever is watching over them.

As far as Diana is concerned, she can ask nothing more of life. There are three children she can hold in her arms and a husband she loves with all her heart. The woman can't help but think it was worth getting every painful laceration and small bruise to reach her current state. Martha and Thomas beam at her, Etha gurgles and Bruce is obviously pleased. Diana shares a look with Shayera. Something tells her the Thanagarian understand perfectly the joy in Diana's heart and soul. Indeed, life is beautiful.


End file.
